


Punch

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 06:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elrond rescues his innocent minstrel.





	Punch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Savour_the_Hunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savour_the_Hunt/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for Albino_obscurial’s “Elrond riding out to protect his sons and Lindir from a surprise orc attack, worrying about Lindir the whole way since he doesn't think he knows anything about fighting (unlike his sons). Then he arrives to find Lindir slaughtering orcs left and right as if he is Imladris' version of Legolas, and finds himself enjoying the view a little too much.” request on [my dreamwidth](https://yeaka.dreamwidth.org/1190.html?thread=1958#cmt1958).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The wind is sharp and biting, and Elrond cuts through it like lightning in fog. He can barely hear his own thoughts over the thundering hooves, but his horse shows no sign of weariness, and he drives her as quick as he can. Ten warriors ride on either side of him, keeping pace and point, all bent forward to aid in their speed. They haven’t a moment to spare. As soon as the battered sentry tumbled through the gates of Imladris, warning of the attack, Elrond was on the move. He didn’t even have time to don proper armour or to fetch a better sword—he took what waited in the stables, and every able guard gathered with him. Normally, his sons would be sent out, but they’re the ones leading the party under siege.

It isn’t them Elrond rides for. He loves his children dearly, but he trained them well, and he knows that neither Elladan nor Elrohir could ever fall to the feeble beasts that roam so closely to their lands. Even outnumbered, they would last. But they had several others in their numbers—gentle, creative elves meant for easels or harps instead of swords. One in particular, Elrond’s own favoured minstrel, had requested leave to go in search of inspiration: finding new beauty in the nearby hills. Elrond had granted that request only because his sons had agreed to go, and reports of trouble had been relatively far and few between. Now he curses that decision. He should have kept Lindir safe inside his home, only allowing leave when he himself could afford to follow. He knows the other soldiers will protect those with them, but Elrond himself would never waver from Lindir’s side. He would spare Lindir not only from the act of violence, but the sound and sight of it—he would have guarded that innocence at all costs.

He can only hope it’s not too late. Lindir’s unblemished view of their world will already be shattered, but there might still be time to keep the blood off his clothes. Then Elrond hears it: the piercing clamour over the booming gallop and beat of his own heart. He signals to his horse, and she neighs into the wind, taking the next hill in an instant. As he reaches its peak, the camp below comes into view. The fire-pit and packs are scattered, instruments and fabrics strewn about the trampled grass. Every elf is on their feet, blades and bows in constant motion. Three-dozen orcs are on them, and more lie dead around the field. Elladan and Elrohir are easy to spot, both for their skill and speed—they dance around the perimeter, slaying everything they touch. 

A moment later, Elrond sees his songbird, standing amidst the wreckage, drawing a splintered arrow to his bow. 

Before Elrond’s drawn breath again, the bow flies. It lands square in the center of warg, which howls its demise as it tosses its rider clean off. The orc barely has time to rise before Lindir’s found another arrow in the carnage about him. He kills the orc just as swiftly as he killed its ride, and then Lindir is sprinting forward to retrieve his arrows and send them on again. 

If Elrond were on his feet, he’d reel back in shock. Fortunately, his horse ignores his surprise. She takes him right into the battle, his warriors raining down around him, spilling into the mess like a tidal wave of chaos. Orcs break under their siege with barely any fight. Elrond has eyes only for one. He keeps charging forward, and Lindir turns to him in time, wild eyes darting up and over. Lindir’s hair is a frantic mess, his robes dirtied and torn. Elrond rides straight for him. 

Without any command, Lindir leaps up at Elrond’s passing. He’s on the horse’s back a split-second later, one arm darting around Elrond’s waist, his chest pressing into Elrond’s back. Elrond keeps riding, his body automatically jumping into battle now that he knows his minstrel’s safe. His sword is out in a flash, and he takes the head off the next orc he passes. The one after that is felled by an arrow shot over his shoulder. As they pass its toppling corpse, Lindir leans out to snatch the arrow back. It’s gone again just as quickly.

With the reinforcements, the battle’s over soon. The orcs break ranks and run, but Elrond’s warriors take them all down, leaving none left to report. When his horse finally grinds to a well-earned halt, he can hear Lindir panting behind him. The two of them are still for a moment, both without words. 

Elrond dismounts first. Sheathing his sword, he helps Lindir off next, though clearly Lindir doesn’t need the hand. He takes it graciously anyway and bows to Elrond afterwards. When he straightens, he’s sheepishly clutching the bow, his cheeks a rosy pink, and Elrond can tell his sweat and nerves aren’t all from adrenaline. 

Elrond doesn’t know what to say. He can see the others cleaning up around him, his sons nodding when they catch his eye, but they all leave him this moment. His affections for Lindir aren’t unknown. Nor is Lindir’s gentleness. Finally, Elrond admits, “You have me at a loss, my songbird. I had not any clue that you had held any weapon before.”

Blushing deeper, Lindir averts his eyes. He even bends to set the bow on the ground—clearly, it was borrowed from another; Elrond’s sure he owns no weapons of his own. Sure enough, he answers, “I had not, my lord. I... ah, I have only watched you when you train... but... I have done so quite a bit...” That only makes it all the more astounding. Lindir shifts his gaze to his feet and adds, “I apologize for the unseemly display. Of course I know no technique, and I really have no business borrowing such a fine piece of equipment...”

“My dear Lindir, you have misunderstood me. I am _impressed_ with you.”

Lindir’s head shoots up, eyes wide and round. “Really?”

Elrond insists, “Very much so. Why, to see you so skillfully taking your protection into your own hands... I found it exhilarating.” In truth, it thrilled him probably more than it should have. He’s always found Lindir’s softness appealing, the art and sweetness in him utterly endearing... but once the fear of harm was gone, Elrond found seeing his lover as a warrior thoroughly exciting.

Forgetting protocol and their audience, Elrond steps forward to place a chaste kiss against Lindir’s lips. As they part, he murmurs, “When we return, we must explore this new facet of you.”

Lindir looks flustered, surprised, and delighted all at once. He nods quickly, then opens his arms, embracing Elrond warmly and tightly. He breathes against Elrond’s chest, “I am still glad you came to rescue me, my lord. I fared better than I would have thought, but I do not know how long that could have lasted. Having you ride in to save me was still very welcome.”

Elrond’s glad he came. He rubs Lindir’s back and holds Lindir in return, until they must tentatively part. Elrond knows the others will want to ride home, and he’ll have to insist on Lindir coming too. Fighting skill or no, he won’t let Lindir leave again without the proper armour. 

Lindir seems all too happy to ride back with him and discuss a new training schedule along the way.


End file.
